Jour de Sang (Part One)
"Jour de Sang (Part One)" 'is the first and premiere episode of ''Genesis, the tenth season, and the 165th episode overall. It was narrated by Katarina, airing on September 11, 2015. In the episode, Preston Alcott travels to France for vacation, but instead bears witness to the coming of the First Plague. This was Katarina's first episode as Storyteller. Katarina succeeded Mets the Mailman from the previous seasons. The Episode PROLOGUE The Book of Exodus chronicles the story of Moses, Pharaoh, and the Ten Plagues. The story behind it is important. But that's religion. This is different. The Bible, Quran, and Torah are three of the oldest written scriptures known to humanity. They shaped nations and sparked wars. Bloodshed, hope, carnage, and peace have come from the words nestled between the pages and scrolls, sometimes altogether. Today, the Book of Exodus is celebrated in movies, books, even an international holiday. To most, Exodus is a story. A ninety-ninth-hand-account, passed down through generations. But the Plagues were real. And no one could have anticipated their return. It is begun. CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORT October 23, 2016 Preston Alcott breathed in the Paris air. The terminal of Charles De Gaulle International Airport was oddly empty. Preston lifted his bag from the baggage claim. Around him, airport staff spoke in French, their accents almost romantic. His two week vacation was off to a tremendous start. As long as it didn't rain later. The clouds sure looked menacing. His hotel was well-recommended by his fellow professors back home. His promotion had definitely afforded him some ample rewards. In early August of this year, he was given a promotion to Department Chair of the Sciences at the University of San Francisco. To hell with all those who were suspicious. I saved that boy's life, Preston told himself again, I was acting in the interest of a human life, not a promotion. Some back home thought Preston's rescue of Dillon King was skeptical. Not because Preston did anything wrong necessarily, but more to the fact that Dillon was on the varsity crew team and knew very well how to swim. What he was doing in San Francisco Bay that night was beyond anyone, as Dillon insisted he could not remember. Dillon's father, Howard King and President of the University, was very grateful to Preston for saving his son from drowning and decided the next day to throw out all other applications and accept Preston's for Department Chair. "Are you sure you didn't drown that boy?" one of Preston's closest friends had asked him in the following days. Preston had cut that person out of his life. At 34 years old and already the head of an entire college department, Preston didn't need the additional stress. Which explained the vacation. France, the land of love. And wine. Thank the French for wine. Preston purchased a glass of chardonnay from the airport's bar before heading out to the pickup area. Despite missing out on the opportunity to come to Paris during the originally-planned mid-August time, he was glad he was here now. The air was cooler and the tourist crowd was thinner. Preston paused with his glass just below his chin. He hadn't thought of it before, but people back home might think the reason for this vacation might be suspicious as well. After all, if that fire hadn't occurred in the chemistry lab, the University President might not have asked Preston to take his vacation. Preston downed the rest of the wine. To hell with them, he thought with conviction. PARIS WATERFRONT "Chiara!" Amande Chastain decried, "What on Earth have you done with your hair?" Chiara Chastain held her stare at the white tablecloth and red china as her mother pulled at her newly-dyed hair. "Chiara!" Mother said again, "This color is abysmal! You were born with an auburn wave of beauty, not blonde whore locks!" Chiara ignored her. "Father," Chiara said to the more pleasant man to her left, "I hope your birthday was well yesterday." "It was," Father said, taking his daughter's hand, "I'm sorry you couldn't make it." "She's not sorry!" Mother screeched, "She was too busy with her eyes stabbing a microscope." Chiara clenched her fork. Ever since taking up residence in Civitavecchia, Italy, and leaving behind France, she felt free. Alive. Until, of course, there was some obligation to come home to her helplessly demanding mother. Father, on the other hand, enjoyed the frequent visits to Italy. He was interested in his daughter's work. "Amande," Father said, "Do not be so hard on Chiara. She is well-respected in the science community." "Oh I'm sure," Mother said, "What exactly are you, anyway? A doctor? Chemist?" "Biologist," Chiara said sourly. She stopped speaking French and switched to Italian. "Cazzo." Father's eyes gauged. He knew she just swore the Italian word for the male reproductive organ. "What?" Mother said, "WHAT DID SHE SAY, EMILE?" Emile Chastain shook his head. "I thought she said something else. My apologies. Chiara, speak French in front of your mother." Mother crossed her arms and drank her wine. Chiara turned to look at the Seine River. It looked turbulent today. "Storm clouds coming in," Father said, "I hope it won't affect your flight." "It shouldn't," Chiara said, though she doubted that. If there was a storm, she would have to wait until morning to fly to Brussels for the European Union parliamentary meeting. She was speaking on behalf of the lab in Civitavecchia on the state of the Mediterranean marine life. "I hope this speech goes better than the last one," Father said with a reassuring smile. Mother just growled. "Last time was not my fault," Chiara said angrily, "It was that pathetic American rival of mine. Preston Alcott." GLASGOW, SCOTLAND Alistaire MacGuaire, the founder and CEO of the Shovella Garden Supply Company, was agitated as usual during the weekly shareholder meeting. He was able to convince the Board to meet within his own mansion so he didn't have to go into the city for these mundane events, but even still... He was 75 years old. His son was already seeking to dethrone him and take over the company. Only Alistaire hated that little bitch and had no intention on abdicating, just like the fat bitch on the English throne. Scotland's vote in 2014 to stay with England was catastrophic. Scottish pride would forever burn within his heart. "Mr. MacGuaire?!" the shrill shareholder giving the presentation shouted, "Are you even listening?" The Board rustled with discontent. So far this year, three votes of no-confidence were crushed by the five (of nine) members of the Board Alistaire paid to keep himself in charge. "No," Alistaire said, "Repeat what you said." The woman blinked. "I think we can use this surplus from this quarter to put into the company's first Christmas and Hanukkah party." The Board nodded in agreement. Alistaire barked laughter. "No," he said plainly, "We don't celebrate religion in this company." The shareholders slumped. This had always been the case. "With all due respect sir," the woman said, "It would increase company morale. It's kind of harsh to suppress religion like this." "Then quit," Alistaire said, "I'm not joking. If you are upset with my policy on the pointless effervescent cloud that is religion, then you can hand in your resignation." The room was silent. "How about this?" Alistaire said with a smile, "We'll throw the party. We'll call it Celebrate Shovels! We'll have it around the time of Xmas so you can feel like it's Xmas, but it'll actually be to celebrate the snowy season and increase in sales." Alistaire leaned back. "Happy?" The Board just looked down. "Perfect!" Alistaire said, "Meeting adjourned." CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORT Preston saw his friend, Cartier Fleuve, wave him over to his car. Preston bounded over and pulled his Parisian friend into a tight embrace. "Welcome to Paris!" Cartier said, eagerly tossing Preston's suitcase into the trunk, "You packed light." "The hotel has laundry services." "Ah!" Cartier said, smiling, "I have cancelled your hotel reservation." Preston gasped. "What! What ever for?" "Because," Cartier said, "You will experience Paris not as a tourist, but as a local. And I am your guide! You will be staying with me." Preston couldn't hide his disappointment. He was looking forward to the pool and spa within the luxurious Eden Hotel. Cartier was a bachelor and probably lived in a dirty apartment in some back alley. Then again, Preston's optimistic side reassured, Cartier was a psychotherapist and very organized. Perhaps staying with him wouldn't be all too bad. And if it was a Parisian hellhole, then he would reopen his reservation at the hotel. Preston got in the car. And then Cartier broke to him some more news. DR. FLEUVE'S OFFICE Adèle Porter waited for the doctor. Her husband, Troy Porter, sat next to her. Their son, their lovely, amazing, poor, cursed son, Liam Porter stood before them. He would not sit down. The receptionist was uncomfortably trying to call Dr. Fleuve. Their last hope. "I'm so glad you don't mind!" Cartier said. "Not at all," Preston said, following Cartier down the office hallway. Cartier had a last minute appointment at his office and asked Preston if he wouldn't mind waiting while Cartier attended to the patient. "It's a most intriguing case," Cartier had said in the car. "How do you mean?" Preston asked. "See for yourself," Cartier said, "Come in with me." Preston had been hesitant. The last time he involved himself with Cartier's work, the European Union had laughed at him and his short-time girlfriend. Cartier was renowned and popular, but on that day, he was a wreck. Cartier pushed open the door to his office. Two adults stood. The receptionist sighed in relief. A child of about twelve years old was facing his parents. His face was completely indifferent. "Come in," Cartier said in French, opening his office door. He then spoke to the parents. Preston didn't know enough French to determine what. Inside the office, Cartier explained to Preston that the parents agreed to speak in English for his benefit. For Troy Porter, this would be no problem, as he was British. His wife, Adèle, was French. "I have read Liam's file," Cartier said, "But would you mind giving a summary to Dr. Alcott?" Adèle and Troy Porter shifted nervously. "Sit down, Liam," Adèle said. Troy grabbed her arm. Then Liam spoke. Liam's voice was mechanic, monotonous. His eyes were completely glassed over. His fingers didn't wiggle. He didn't blink. He just spoke. He said what seemed like a speech in French. Cartier looked slightly disturbed. When Liam was done, his eyes flickered to Preston. Only for a second. Preston's mouth was agape. Cartier had maintained better composure. "Tell us about Liam's condition," Cartier said. "Well," Adèle said, "It began on August 14. This year; 2016. He was at a friend's house where we live in Annecy. He was there for the afternoon and called to say he was on his way home. Our neighbors saw him go down this small walking trail. There's a raspberry bush out there and he loves raspberries. And then...he came home...but he was different. He didn't eat. Or drink. Or sleep, really. All he did was say those words. What you just heard." "Only when you say his name to him," Troy said, "Only when addressed." "We call it his Verse," Adèle said. "What do you mean he doesn't eat or sleep?" Cartier said, "He'll die otherwise." "We know..." Adèle said, "But he went two weeks without food or water and doctors said he was fine. No signs of weight loss or malnutrition or dehydration." "When he sleeps, he mumbles that Verse. It drives us crazy!" "His health is...fine?" Preston asked incredulously. He was not a doctor of medicine; only chemistry, but this was bizarre beyond insane. "He had epilepsy," Troy said, "Seizures almost every week. Then this possession and...now nothing. He was cured." "Blessing and a curse..." Cartier mumbled. "We've brought him to over 50 doctors around France," Adèle said, "We just want answers. No one has any." "We went back to the woods," Troy said, "Where it all began. Because something happened out there. We don't know what, but something happened! We found his phone." "And?" Preston asked. "It was charred," Troy Porter said. "Charred?" Cartier asked, "Like burnt?" "Yes," Adèle said, "Only nothing else in the forest was like that." "Interesting," Cartier said, "Go on." "We had a breakthrough," Troy said, "On...um...September 10th. Liam wrote." "Wrote what?" Preston asked, feeling a twinge of hope and optimism. "Well," Adèle said," He wrote his Verse." Preston's heart sank. He was beginning to think there was no disease on Earth that explained this. "Breakthrough?" Cartier said, "Why is that a breakthrough?" "Because," Adèle said, digging in her purse, "Just look." She handed him a stack of papers. The Verse was written all over it. In French. Preston could only make out a few words. He assumed Cartier would fill him in on the contents when the meeting was over. "Look at the word 'Basin,'" Troy said. "It's capitalized," Cartier said, "Why?" "We don't know," Adèle said, "But it's probably important." Preston and Cartier were silent. "We give him paper everyday so he can write. If you put paper in front of him, he will write. If you pull him along, he will walk. If you say his name, he will speak. But that is all." Cartier stuck his pen in his mouth. "You mentioned to me on the phone this morning that I was your last hope. Why did you say that?" Troy and Adèle both began crying at once. "We saw a neurosurgeon in the Czech Republic last week," Adèle said, dabbing her eyes, "He ran a high-tech CT Scan on Liam's brain." "He said Liam was bereft of humanity," Troy said. "He is void," Adèle added. "He said to end the torment," Troy said, "that we should have him euthanized." Preston gasped loudly. Cartier shushed him. Preston was aghast. In the United States, euthanasia was often considered too cruel for dogs. The idea that euthanasia was suggested to parents for their child was unprecedented. "There's a clinic in Belgium," Adèle said, "Very respectable. We have an appointment in three days to euthanize Liam. It's legal in that country and we don't know what else to do." "Adèle suggested we take one final vacation with him," Troy said, "Liam always loved Paris..." "And we saw your office on the street and wanted to give it one last chance..." Cartier held up a hand. "I would be happy to take your son as a patient. And to discover the nature behind his...possession." Adèle and Troy smiled. Adèle put her arm around Liam, who continued to stare blankly at the wall. "My receptionist will e-mail you your payment details. For now, I suggest returning home and..." Cartier trailed off. Liam had walked to the window. Adèle and Troy stared. "Liam?" Adèle said. Then Liam spoke again, as prompted. This time in English. And Preston nearly screamed. '''"Through the reeds. Through the mud. The scarlet tide Kills the rudd. Burst the Basin. Begin the flood. A pestilence A plague of blood." "He...said it in English," Troy said. Cartier cast a curious glance at Preston. "He's never said it in English!" Adèle cried. Liam placed a hand on the glass. "Oh mon Dieu.." Adèle muttered in French. She grabbed her crucifix necklace. Liam pounded the glass and screamed his Verse again in English. "THROUGH THE REEDS! THROUGH THE MUD!" Cartier jumped from his desk and ran to Liam. "Liam, what's wrong?" he asked. "THE SCARLET TIDE KILLS THE RUDD!" "He won't tell you!" Adèle shouted, "Oh dear God make him stop!" Liam smashed his fist against the window again and again. Preston hurried over. Liam was staring at the Seine. "BURST THE BASIN! BEGIN THE FLOOD!" Preston grabbed Liam's shoulder And Liam stopped banging on the window. "A pestilence," he said calmly, "A plague of blood." Then, he turned all by himself. And walked out of the office. Preston, Cartier, Adèle, and Troy followed. SEINE WATERFRONT Liam walked ahead of his parents. They told Cartier that he hadn't done that since his possession. Liam walked down toward the waterfront. His eyes remained fixated ahead. "He's going toward the edge!" Adèle screamed. "STOP HIM!" Preston shouted, probably too loud. Troy and Cartier darted forward. But it was too late. Liam walked off the edge into the Seine. Adèle shrieked. Preston looked down into the water. "What the..." Liam did not splash. He appeared to be standing, only up to his knees in water. He was moving toward the center of the river. Thunder clapped overhead. Gray storm clouds had formed over Paris. In the water, Liam shuddered and convulsed. He was in the center of the river, just floating at his knees. Some sort of coral reef, Preston told himself, but knew that was not true. Boats passed through these waters daily. "He's sinking!" Adèle yelped. Troy and Cartier removed their shirts and dove into the Seine. "Through the reeds," Liam said, "Through the mud. The scarlet tide kills the rudd. Burst the Basin. Begin the flood. A pestilence..." Liam's head turned toward Preston. An icy chill exploded down Preston's back. Liam's eyes connected with Preston's. "A plague of blood." Cartier and Troy reached Liam, now up to his chest. But then his finger grazed the water. And the water around him turned red. Scarlet lines creeped along the river's surface like branches on a dying tree. "He's bleeding!" Troy shouted, hoisting him out of the water. "No," Preston whispered, "He's not." The red wave spread. It touched the edge of the riverbank. Then the other. Then, it moved down the Seine. In both directions. A scarlet tide. "AGH!" Cartier shouted, spitting out the red liquid. "It's blood!" Troy screamed. They swam back to shore, Liam slung over Troy's back. On the waterfront, while Cartier administered CPR to Liam, Parisians gathered to watch in amazement, and horror, as the Seine River turned to blood. Preston swallowed hard and tried to make sense of it all. But he was at a loss. Everyone was. And everyone would be. Preston had no idea then, but Paris, France, had just fallen victim to the first Plague. The Plague of Blood. October 23, 2016, would historically come to be known in France as the Jour de Sang. In English, it is known as the Day of Blood. It is begun. Production Continuity and Story Arcs This episode set up the majority of the major arcs and aspects of the season: *Preston is a chemistry professor from the University of San Francisco, vacationing in Paris after a promotion and two suspicious incidents at his college. *Chiara is a biologist living in Italy with a prior relationship with Preston; she now shares a rivalry with him. *Alistaire is a stark atheist CEO of a garden tool company. *Liam Porter was possessed by an unknown force. He speaks a poem known as his Verse to his parents. *Liam turns the Seine River to blood, bringing the first plague. For unknown reasons as of airing, Liam speaking his Verse in English is what ultimately brings the plague. Trivia *As indicated at the end of the episode, "Jour de Sang" translates from French to English as "Day of Blood." *The working title for this episode was "Aqua Sanguis," Latin for "Water blood." *This episode is the favorite premiere of the producers. *This episode was rewritten 3 times before its final edition. In the first two versions, Preston had indeed stayed at the hotel and ran into Liam and his family while swimming in the Seine. This was rewritten when it was discovered that idle swimming in the Seine is unpopular and unlikely. *Because this episode originally took place in London, Liam's Verse was "Break the Locks, begin the flood" as opposed to "Burst the Basin, begin the flood." Category:Episodes Category:Genesis Episodes Category:Premieres